


Rebirth

by slothinsocks



Series: Maul’s Infatuation [6]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Dad Maul, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Family Fluff, Maulmara, Romance, Soft Darth Maul, Sorry Not Sorry, This really is the sweetest thing I’ve written, non-graphic birth of a child, this diverges from canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-10
Updated: 2020-09-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:47:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26385883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slothinsocks/pseuds/slothinsocks
Summary: Maul is given the greatest gift of all.
Relationships: Darth Maul/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Maul’s Infatuation [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1893727
Comments: 5
Kudos: 30





	Rebirth

**Author's Note:**

> This is a bit shorter than the previous fics, but it’s just too adorable. Please enjoy the official Maul fatherhood oneshot.

There was certainly no force equal to that of a determined woman, Maul had learned. A determined woman amidst the middle of childbirth, too. For all of the suffering he’d endured in his lifespan, all of the trials and tribulations, the clawing to get to where he wanted to be — nothing quite compared to the moment he was currently in. No prize, no throne, no conquest would ever amount to the pride the Zabrak had felt when he learned that he would become a father. A role that not many thought he would be suited for, but there was no better choice than Maul himself. 

Maul had been waiting with a very eager anticipation. The fall of the Republic did not interfere with his desires to take on the challenge of fatherhood, nor did the loss of Mandalore, and thus, the root of his power. The Zabrak now possessed an entire crime syndicate, one that he was not currently preoccupied with. It was the last thing upon his mind, buried so far back that he’d almost forgotten about it. He had been so consumed with the preparations for his son that domination and shadowy entanglements sounded foreign, now.

Amara’s pregnancy had been incredibly smooth, unhindered, and most of their time spent together was at their secluded hovel in the heart of Dathomir. She was just as ecstatic as he was about parenthood, which made Maul happy. She was going to make a perfect mother, flawless, in fact. When it came time to bring their son into the world, she wasn’t frightened. She was determined and overwhelmed, which was easily detected now, in her thoughts and within her feelings. 

The chatter of the midwives that surrounded her seemed to go in one ear and out the other for Maul. One of them was on Amara’s left, the other two assisting her with commands and the baby — whenever he decided to emerge. He was growing antsy, and the quicker it was over with, the less pain Amara would be in. That was the worst part, was her screams and cries of agony. He made sure to console her as best as he could.

He remembered the birth of his younger brother, Feral. It was incredibly faint, just at the fringes of his mind, but just enough recollection of the gruesome event. He didn’t remember the process being this long, either. His culture was or primitive and ritualistic — births were meant to be harsh and unyielding. Maul couldn’t imagine leaving Amara to suffer like that. The mere thought of his beloved in pain was enough to make him angry and upset, but this time, it was more concern and worry than anything else. 

Maul did not trust very many people, and if he did, it was often for some gain. Even the midwives he’d sent for from within the web of the Crimson Dawn were suspicious to him, even if their intentions were pure and pious. He did not like the idea of others present, but Maul was the last person capable of delivering a child all on his own. It was far more beneficial of him to sit and comfort Amara during it all — he preferred it that way. 

Labor had been occurring for nearly three hours. Maul was typically abrasive and impatient, but this was a spectacle that could take its time, though he hoped that it was all nearing its end. The Zabrak was hunched close to her, allowing her to clutch onto his hand as tightly and as fiercely as she wanted to. No matter how hard she squeezed, no matter how strangling her hold was, Maul never complained. He sometimes wiped at her tears or the perspiration that trailed down her face and glistened across her collarbone, to keep her comfortable. 

“Breathe, starlight.” Maul advised, nearly wincing when another shattering cry tore past her lips. Her grip upon his hand tensed and clenched violently, which didn’t seem to phase the Zabrak. She was sobbing, hot tears streaming down her cheeks, head craned forward and expression one of both pain and concentration. He attempted to sweep her hair out of her eyes, the ridge of his brow furrowing together. “Breathe.” He cautioned again.

“You are doing well,” One of the midwives encouraged her, the other still giving her commands every other moment. Amara sniffled, leaning towards Maul, who was more than happy to adjust to keep her comfortable. She was nervous, he could sense it now. Soothingly, he caressed his fingers through her hair with his free palm, the pad of his thumb stroking along the back of her little hand. 

She choked back another painful cry, grasping his hand as if it were an anchor. Amara felt bad for strangulating Maul’s hand for three hours, but it meant the world to her, just to hold his hand. She knew that he was not a stranger to pain, either. He would welcome it and excuse her vice like hold. “Maul,” She cried, feeling him wipe at her tears yet again. Amara would have to thank him for all of this — it was the safest she’d ever felt. 

She was spent, physically. This was the hardest thing that she’d ever had to do in her life, and exhaustion was prevalent in both her expressions and body language. Amara didn’t stop, though — not even for a second. She continued to breathe, per Maul’s words, pushing when she was told, making sure to time everything out within her head. “You are doing wonderful, starlight.” There was Maul’s encouragement again. 

Amara felt horrible, from the thick layer of perspiration to the uncomfortable position, but it would all be over soon, she hoped. Everything was agonizing, everything felt searing, but she was so excited to meet her son. It had been such a long nine months of expectancy, uncertainty, strife — but she and Maul had created a blissful life for themselves. Their son would share in that.

“Just a little more!” The midwife encouraged her once more, and Amara prepared herself, taking another deep breath before she heaved with pushing. She could feel Maul’s chest against the back of her head, the light thrumming of his twin hearts, the fingertips winding throughout her tresses. It was all comforting, knowing that Maul had been with her through every second of a very sluggish and excruciating birthing process. Maul said something during her final round of pushes, though Amara could barely make anything out through the haze of her focus. 

Another cry pierced through the room this time — and it was not Amara’s own shrieks of pain. With golden hair sticking to her face, she could finally breathe a sigh of relief, and the tears that came from her were only joy this time. Amara was crying, not only from the ending of her strain, but from the sound of their son. Things moved swiftly from there. She was cleaned up just a bit, enough to be somewhat comfortable when meeting her son. 

“You’ve been given a son, Lord Maul.” One of the midwives spoke excitedly, and all three women had immediately gathered around the newborn infant. There were babbles of content and giddiness, murmurs of how precious the boy was, the sounds of accomplished midwives. 

Maul followed them closely as the cord was cut and the babe was cleaned off, and the look upon the Sith’s face was nothing short of complete and total adoration. It was the proudest that Maul had ever looked within his lifetime. He spoke in Dathomirian to the three of them, temporarily dismissing the trio. The Zabrak returned to his beloved mate with a sizable bundle, helping her sit up just a bit, pillows piled behind her.

Without hesitation, Maul handed their child to her, sinking down to partially sit behind her, the much larger male hovering over the other two. His posture was that of an overprotective father — and that wouldn’t change anytime soon. He was so very elated and proud of Amara, and it was as if his chest had swelled tenfold with pride. He stroked her hair again, peering down at the baby swaddled within dark, rich cloth.

“Oh, Maul,” Amara was crying, trying to clear her head, but emotions were very high for her. “He’s beautiful.” She sniffed, touching her hands against the baby’s pudgy cheek. She moved the blanket away enough to see him entirely — and Amara was enamored. It was as if she’d fallen in love. The baby’s skin was red, clearly taking after his father, though not as intense and vibrant as Maul’s. It was more dulled, if anything else. He did have horns already sprouting from his head, small nubs that formed a crown. 

“He is cursed with my charming good looks,” Maul scoffed, knowing that he had to be blunt and a touch sarcastic. He was hoping for some beautiful little boy that appeared exactly like Amara — no horns, no resemblance to him at all, maybe except for the golden eyes. Of course, he did not mean it in a negative way. Maul reached down to try and see if his son had any teeth yet … Nothing. No sharp incisors just yet. Those would grow in eventually, he assumed. 

“What’s so horrible about him looking like you?” Amara protested through her bleary eyes, though she did have a faint smile upon her face. “He will be so handsome.” Her smile grew from there, lips curling into a joyous look that lit up her entire expression. Wiping at her eyes again, Amara peered back to their son, who was oddly content for a newborn. He made little noises, wriggling around in the blankets, but he remained in a half-slumber. 

Maul had to smirk at that, pressing lips against the top of her head. The Zabrak sank into a comfortable silence as Amara lifted the child a bit to nurse, gently stroking at her shoulders. “You are my heart, starlight.” He sighed, able to see her beautiful smile yet again. Amara was so enchanting — he was entirely bewitched by whatever spell she’d placed upon him, metaphorically speaking. “The both of you.” He said those words with such immense pride and passion. 

“He’ll need a name,” Amara spoke up, a bit of amusement within her eyes. She and Maul had spoken about what to name the child numerous times, and his ideas were a bit different. They were all very harsh names — Primal had come up several times, Rend had been mentioned too. Even Savage, the name of his late older brother. She wasn’t exactly keen on any of those names, and she’d come up with one of her own. “Unless you’d like to name him Maul Two.” She teased.

The Zabrak’s signature scowl appeared, albeit playfully this time, before it disappeared just as quickly. “No,” He shook his head. “What is so terrible about Primal?” Maul insisted with a smirk. He really was stuck upon that name. It only made sense, given what he was named and what his brothers had been called. Dathomirian culture was vastly different from what her life was like on Alderaan — there were no Mauls or Savages from her homeworld. “You have had time to consider it. Does it not appeal to you?” Maul knew it wouldn’t.

Amara blushed, and once the crimson baby was done nursing, she held him up a little more. “I had my own ideas,” She mused, giving Maul a quizzical look. “You never asked about what I thought,” She teased, giving his hand a gentle squeeze, thumb caressing across his knuckles. “I do not think Primal is bad … But I’ll share my name.” Maul’s eyes lit up at that. There was a long pause and hesitation from her end before the name was finally spoken into existence. “Revor.” 

He almost expected the name to be frilly and fancy, something sweet. It was characteristic of his beloved, and he wouldn’t blame her. However, her choice surprised her. That was certainly ferocious and tenacious, like Maul. A son of the Sith needed a fitting name, did he not? Judging from the Zabrak’s expression, he seemed to be in agreement with Amara. “Revor,” Maul repeated, feeling the name upon his tongue. “I approve.” He rumbled, reaching down towards their son. 

Revor cooed, wriggling within Amara’s arms. The newborn was rather active, though given the combination of both Zabrak and Human, he was bound to be a little faster than the average human child. Amara couldn’t have looked any happier, pressing her lips against the baby’s cheek. “Do you want to see your father?” She mused, and when Revor gurgled in return, she grinned. “A yes.” She knew that Maul was practically itching and chomping at the bit to hold their son for a little while longer. 

Maul smirked, standing upright as Amara handed the baby off to him. His yellow, crimson-ringed irises appraised his child with adoration and a swelling sense of pride. It was the happiest day of his life, more or less. He watched the midwives return, helping Amara from the small room and into the refresher. She certainly didn’t give birth in their chambers — even that was a bit too strange for Maul. He was left alone with Revor, who was extremely content to be held by his father.

The former Darth could envision it all so clearly before him — training his son upon the scaling cliffs of Dathomir, passing on all that he knew, and with Amara by his side. A very faint smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, and Maul knew that now, he could look upon the future with such fondness. He ran a sharp nail against the babe’s tiny horns, gently stroking his cheek. Maul really was enamored with this baby — he never imagined himself to be so taken with a child. It was his own, of course, but also Amara’s, even if there wasn’t much of her present physically. 

“This is your home,” Maul stepped away from the side room and into their chambers, pacing across until he came to the rocky balcony at the opposite side. Dathomir was often covered in a crimson mist, though with their location, high within the sheer bluffs and red mountains, it was clearer to see. There, Maul stood with Revor tucked into the crook of his left arm. The harsh suns of the planet were beginning to fade, casting the sky in a vibrant orange light.

He adjusted his arm, holding Revor against his chest, now. The baby cooed and wriggled, and Maul placed a hand against the infant’s back. It couldn’t have been a more perfect and picturesque evening, in truth. Maul sighed, peering down towards his son. He seemed to be brighter than any sun, any ray of light from the colorful sunsets. Revor began to open his eyes at last, and Maul was absolutely enthralled.

Revor had Amara’s eyes. 

A brilliant seafoam - green, a hue that clashed and contrasted with the vermilion of his complexion. There was certainly a chunk of Amara that resided in him, now. Maul had always loved her eyes, adored them even, and it brought him a sense of joy knowing that Revor shared the trait with his mother. The infant peered at Maul, letting out another babyish gurgle before grabbing at his tunic. 

Maul could barely fathom that he really had his own family — one that was not built upon manipulation and the callousness he experienced from all sides. Part of him used to think that he would end up all alone upon some throne. It didn’t mean anything now, Maul realized this. It was his life-mate and his son, and that was all the Zabrak would ever need. 

He turned slightly at the sound of gentle footsteps approaching him. Maul moved aside, his gaze catching Amara’s own pretty eyes. She looked absolutely radiant — not that she hadn’t before. He found her beautiful in whatever shape or form, choice of clothing, anything. Now that Amara was clean and cozy, she didn’t look nearly as stressed and dilapidated as before.

Amara had donned another pretty gown, though more simplistic in design and decorum. It was the color of a midnight blue, and she wore a heavier shawl over it. Dathomir was colder the higher you climbed, and it made their location a touch chilly. Her curly, golden hair was damp from having a bath, slightly flattened down from the water, and she seemed fresh-faced. “Are you bonding?” She chimed, moving to Maul’s side. 

Maul smirked, feeling her small hands wrap around one of his arms, cheek pressed into his bicep. He lowered Revor so that she could see him, as the new parents doted over their son. “He has your eyes, starlight.” The Zabrak mused, handing off Revor to Amara so that she could see. Instead, he hovered next to her, wrapping one arm around her form to pull her against him. He peered over her shoulder instead, the both of them gazing endlessly at the infant. 

“Oh,” She seemed surprised when Maul’s words were confirmed. It was a lovely touch, to know that her son possessed her eyes. She was content with him looking just like Maul, but this was special too. Amara’s features began to break out with a dazzling smile as she leaned closer, gently swiping her thumb across Revor’s cheek and his little horns. “I cannot believe how incredible he is.” Amara sighed, glancing up towards Maul. “How incredible the both of you are.”

Maul pressed his lips against her forehead, drawing away only slightly before their mouths connected instead. He was always very passionate, but they kept it swift and brief this time around. “You are my heart, starlight.” The Zabrak rumbled, sweeping his hand through her golden curls again. “I cannot imagine a being as perfect as you.” And it was the truth. They had endured so much together, but there was only one woman for him, one who had captured him entirely, and that was Amara. 

“And our son,” Amara reminded him, almost in a teasing manner. She knew that Maul thought as she did, but it was amusing to toy with him whenever the opportunity presented itself. The Zabrak hovered close to her, reaching down towards Revor. The baby cooed, reaching out with a tiny hand to grasp at Maul’s finger. “He loves you.” She beamed, dimples forming at either corner of her mouth. 

That was enough to make him smile, even if it were very slight. Maul was gentle, letting the infant hold on for as long as he wanted, stroking his thumb across the little red hand. He was surprised that Amara was quick to stand and move so swifty. “You should be resting, starlight.” Maul reminded her with a somewhat stern tone of voice. He didn’t want her to strain herself and push herself to the brink — the Zabrak was capable of doing everything that needed to be done.

“I will!” She reassured him with a bright smile, peering toward the commotion from the inside of their home. The three midwives were still present, she realized. Amara watched as Maul squinted, standing taller with a soft grumble. He pressed a kiss against her forehead before leaving her and Revor alone, following after the midwives at a brusque pace. It must’ve been something urgent, or he was planning on dismissing them. Either way, it left her alone with her son.

Amara’s heart was so full of love that it could’ve burst. Motherhood was something she’d yearned for, and now, she had it. The little infant stared up at her with those seafoam hues, eyes that mirrored her own. She smiled, tucking him close to her chest before she moved back inside, closing the curtains behind her with one hand. Maul was right — she did need to rest. Amara surprised herself with how quickly she was up and moving after just giving birth. Deciding to take his advice, she sat on the edge of their bed, Revor nestled close to her. 

She could hear voices — Maul’s and another voice, one that sounded unfamiliar. It was a man, though Amara didn’t want to interrupt if the meeting was important. The midwives left through one of the opposing doors, on the shuttle they had arrived on earlier that day. Everything seemed pristine and hushed, aside from Maul speaking to this mystery man. Curiosity got the better of her as she stood, moving towards the sound of his voice.

The hologram displayed in the center of the small chamber was a man she hadn’t seen before. He was tall, with a scar on one side of his face, draped in some fancy overcoat. Maul appeared somewhat impatient with him, though Amara didn’t dare to intrude upon what seemed to be business. She did listen in, however. Something about the syndicate bringing in new recruits, operating under the growing shadow of the Empire, avoiding any discussion of Maul’s involvement. 

“I do apologize for interjecting upon your personal time, Lord Maul.” The voice sounded again, slightly tense and hesitant to speak. “Congratulations.” It was tinged with a Coruscant accent, and though hers was Alderaanian, it had somewhat shifted during her time spent in the capital. Revor stirred, gripping onto the front of her nightgown, wriggling around within her arms. 

Maul could hear it, and thus, he brought his meeting with Vos to a swift close. “Understand where your priorities lie. Do not make me regret placing you in charge.” The Zabrak uttered, and allowing his words to sink in, he cut off the transmission. Emerging from the chamber, the door slid shut behind him. “I apologize for the interruption, starlight.” Maul sighed begrudgingly, his yellow irises fluttering toward the pair. Tucking hair behind her ear, he walked with them towards their room. 

“You are running a very delicate operation. I understand.” Amara was everything and more — reassuring, understanding, and compassionate. Her eyes glittered, happy as could be as they made their way back into their quarters. A simple crib was made up close to their bed, done up all pretty-like in the way that she wanted it to be. Sitting back down upon the edge of the bed, she felt the mattress shift when Maul sat next to her.

His gaze landed upon her while she wasn’t watching, likely nursing Revor before she tried to get a bit of sleep. The Zabrak’s staring was just as intense, enamored with how beautiful she appeared at that very moment. Not that she wasn’t gorgeous all the time, but motherhood suited her, truly. It was attractive and wonderful to behold. Maul felt himself smiling just slightly, faint enough not to be detected, but with Amara, he was vulnerable and let himself melt away within her presence. He loved her with every fiber of his being — every part of himself was hers. There simply wasn’t another who could compare to his Amara, not another soul that could tether to his own. 

It took her a good moment to notice his ogling, and when her head turned, his eyes were glued to her. Amara smiled, brilliant and soft as could be, dimples forming at either corner of her mouth. Exhaustion was written all over her visage, but she wasn’t about to complain. Cradling Revor in one arm, she reached out with her free hand, fingertips stroking along the Zabrak’s tattooed jaw. It was a sweet touch, a gesture seeped in affection and adoration. Maul leaned into her embrace, taking a hold of her small hand to press a kiss against her palm. 

“I love you.” Amara’s sweet voice carried around their chambers, and she coaxed him down, closer to her level. Making sure to mind the horns, their foreheads touched, with Maul peppering kisses all across her face. It earned him a jovial giggle, bringing a smirk to his features. The golden-haired girl leaned inward, her lips briefly catching his for a tender kiss. They were both chaste about it this time, and Amara pulled Revor away from her breast not long after. 

“As I love you, starlight.” Maul sighed, yellow irises holding just a hint of softness within them. They were often deadly and sharp, but truthfully, he’d let himself become far more tender whenever Amara was around. There wasn’t any use in putting up some dark facade — not with her, and not with his son. He took Revor from her, watching as she removed her shawl and adjusted her nightgown. He knew that she needed to rest, and if this was the way to make her sleep, Maul would do it a thousand times over. The Zabrak was nocturnal for the most part, anyway. He preferred the night. 

Getting comfortable against the plush pillows and curling up within lighter blankets, Maul slumped next to her. He let Amara drape herself close to his chest — she and Revor both were against him. Adjusting his arm, he let one cradle his son, and the other clutching protectively onto his life-mate. It was a most blissful feeling, and he wasn’t very tired, anyway. Maul’s affectionate smirk landed upon Amara first, who was still alert, hand placed against his collarbone. His family was all piled atop him, especially Amara, who really should’ve been resting all along.

However, she wasn’t asleep quite yet. Instead, she stroked the top of Revor’s horned head, the baby slumbering, nestled against his father’s chest. There was a comfortable silence between the pair — steady breathing, the sounds of Dathomir’s wildlife echoing in the distance, the fluttering breeze that stirred the curtains. Maul finally broke the silence after a long while, and he’d almost thought Amara had nodded off by then. 

“I think I‘d like another.” His alluring baritone shattered the peace and quiet, a sly tinge to his tone of voice. He could hear Amara’s small physique vibrate with the most jovial of laughter. Maul’s hand traced across her shoulders and back, squeezing near the curve of her breast.

“Mm. Give it a few years.” Amara mumbled, just in the earlier stages of dozing off into a deep slumber. She could practically sense Maul’s characteristic scowl appear upon his face, even if it was of a more playful nature that time around.

“Years?” Maul groveled, leaning down to press a kiss against the top of her pretty head. Revor stirred again, though remained asleep nonetheless. The Zabrak really did want another child, and all it took was a few hours with his son to confirm that for him. “I do not think I can wait years, beloved.” He exhaled, though truthfully, he would wait as long as she wanted to. There was no reason to rush into anything. They had all the time in the world.

Amara snickered, peering up towards Maul with tired eyes. “I won’t make you wait forever. Promise.” She wriggled up to press a sweet kiss against his cheek, fingers sweeping across his jaw. Her seafoam hues seemed to make the Zabrak melt underneath her affectionate gaze before kissing him yet again. “I love you.” Dreary and exhausted, she sank back down before he had the proper chance to reciprocate.

Maul smirked, allowing her to get comfortable again. He made sure that the blanket was tugged across her, and that she was situated once more. It was a blissful feeling and even more of a heartwarming sight. The former Darth, sprawled across his bed with his newborn son against his chest, and his beloved mate draped across his collarbone and shoulder. He held the both of them tightly, protectively, afraid that if his grasp slipped, that they would be lost to him. He remained awake, however, clutching tightly to the two beings that mattered most to him in this world.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to all who continue to read & support my work! I do have a tumblr where I gush about Star Wars (father-maul) and I have a fic masterlist there, too! Kudos & comments are always appreciated but never required! Thanks again & stay cool! ❤️


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